


It Wasn't for Lack of Trying

by creepy_shetan



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Developing Relationship, Emotional Support, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepy_shetan/pseuds/creepy_shetan
Summary: Benson leaves Carisi in Barba's hands. Set vaguely during Carisi's first year in Manhattan (late s16/spring 2015).(Originally posted 2020/12/19 as a fill for a prompt.)
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	It Wasn't for Lack of Trying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/gifts).



> Small warning for implied violence against and death of nameless OCs. (No descriptions included.)

Somewhere in the short span of time between "I'm sorry, Carisi," and "I need to meet Rollins at Mercy," Barba had missed his chance to leave. But then Olivia looked at him with a silent apology-slash-question, and he nodded instead. He watched her pull the door shut behind her before shifting his gaze back to where Carisi sat on her office couch.

Barba hadn't met the first victim. He'd heard that he was young and at first unable to speak. He gradually disclosed to Carisi while Olivia spoke with his doctor. Olivia had mentioned that, out of the squad, Carisi had spent the most time with the victim over the past week, including staying with him until his sister could drive in from out of state. Barba knew that his details were consistent, his background was clean, and he'd refused to testify in court. 

Just that morning, the squad had briefed Barba about a second victim, who was admitted into the hospital late last night. His memory was more fragmented and still returning, but he'd already agreed to meet with an ADA as soon as he was able. The only confirmed connection between the two victims so far was a place. They were still tracking down witnesses, as well as potential earlier victims.

It was late in the day when Barba visited the precinct again, merely stopping by on his way home to exchange some paperwork with Olivia. Fin, Amaro, and Rollins were all out of the building, and Carisi had been giving Olivia a quick progress report about surveillance videos before she also headed out to meet Rollins. Olivia was in her office, expertly multitasking, when she got the phone call that interrupted and completely derailed anything Carisi--or Barba--had to say.

Carisi hadn't moved or said a word since sinking onto the couch with his elbows propped on his knees and his face in his hands. More accurately, the heels of his hands were covering his eyes, and his head was too bowed to see the rest of his face.

Barba felt a moment of uncertainty about whether Carisi was aware that he was still in the room, followed by feeling like an idiot, because _of course_ Carisi was aware. No one would sit like _that_ if they thought they were alone.

"Do you want to--?"

Before Barba could finish, Carisi shook his head and lowered it even more between his hunched shoulders, his hands smoothing back his hair, loosened locks caught between his fingers. Barba wondered what Carisi had thought he would say: "talk about it," "be alone," "go home," or maybe "get a drink." Barba shifted, his eyes never leaving the other man.

"Do you," Barba asked, this time more slowly and quietly, "want me to sit with you?"

He watched fingertips dig into a skull for a moment, then slacken again.

"Yeah," Carisi said, his voice tight. He took a shallow breath, and there was an audible shakiness in his next word. "Please."

While Barba crossed the room to the couch, Carisi pulled something out of a pocket and held it over his eyes. He only got a quick glimpse of his full face, but it was enough to make Barba pat Carisi between his shoulders and leave his right forearm along the man's spine as he sat to his left. Carisi neither jumped nor relaxed at the touch--he also didn't move away from it.

"Is that a handkerchief?" Barba couldn't help asking. He refrained, however, from kneading the muscles he felt under Carisi's waistcoat and shirt. "Do you always carry one around?"

This time Carisi's exhale was amused and annoyed, and Barba found the brief upward twitch of his lips bittersweet.

"Yeah." Carisi simply said. He did not offer a background story or an anecdote about a family member.

"I'm not one to judge, Detective. You should know that." 

Carefully, Barba slid his hand a couple of inches up and down Carisi's back in a slow, rhythmic motion. He thought it was awkward and patronizing--his arm being there at all was presumptuous of him--until, bit by bit, the rigid way in which Carisi held himself softened. They fell into silence, Carisi's thoughts still elsewhere. Barba didn't push, waiting for him to return to the present. It didn't take long.

"Right. You wear suspenders," Carisi mumbled flatly.

"And we _both_ wear waistcoats," Barba immediately replied with a pointed thump of his palm against Carisi's back--not hard, but dully audible.

"Okay, okay." Carisi made a small gesture with his free hand, as well as a short sound that could have been a laugh.

His smile looked a little closer to his usual ones, but Carisi was wiping his eyes and clearing his throat, not to mention his skin was reddened in places. A stray lock of hair had fallen down to his temple, and he unconsciously clenched his jaw when he swallowed. Barba knew he was frowning because it became clear Carisi had noticed. He kept talking to reassure Barba that he was feeling better now--that Barba had actually helped in some way. 

Carisi said he was all right. He didn't move away from Barba. He didn't meet his gaze. He didn't even straighten his posture.

"Carisi," Barba moved his hand sideways to squeeze Carisi's nearer shoulder instead of reaching up to tuck his hair back into place, "It's okay to be... like this. You _really_ should know that."

Barba hoped Carisi understood that he meant both Carisi and himself. He didn't want to explain it.

Carisi gave Barba a long look, his expression thoughtful. He switched his handkerchief from one hand to the other, freeing his right to cross his chest and cover Barba's on his left shoulder.

"Yeah. I do." He opened his mouth slightly and closed it again. There was a short pause before he gently removed Barba's hand. "Thanks, Barba." He sat up, breathed out slowly, and got to his feet. Barba stood, too.

They left Olivia's office. Barba waited the five seconds it took for Carisi to gather his things, his desk apparently needing no last-minute attention, and walked with him to the elevator.

"Try to get some rest," Barba said, once they were outside.

Carisi promised he would try.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: any, any, a steadying hand on their back to help them calm down  
> The theme: Hurt/comfort  
> Originally posted [here](https://comment-fic.livejournal.com/1071306.html?thread=113636554#t113636554).  
> I only own the writing.
> 
> For the curious... It's my third SVU fic attempted and my third finished. This December has been weird. Please do not expect such productivity from me in the future. XD;;
> 
> I hope it reads all right. I started writing it hours after watching the s17 finale, and I finished it when I was halfway through s18. H/c isn't my usual thing, either... I guess I saw the way Carisi sits on that hospital bed outside the waiting room and wanted to make it worse. Sorry?


End file.
